


two

by deanssammy (babylxxrry)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Character Study, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Missing Scene, Suicidal Thoughts, nothing is carried out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-21
Updated: 2020-11-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:21:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27652676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babylxxrry/pseuds/deanssammy
Summary: There are two beds.[sam lives on.]
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	two

**Author's Note:**

> wincest fic? from me? in the year of our lord two thousand and twenty? yeah babey
> 
> set in that timeskip after dean died and before the party city old man wig scene
> 
> i didn't watch the episode, but i did live it through livetweets so this is uh. a conglomeration of that. it's a mess, but it's. something, i guess
> 
> TW: suicidal ideation. nothing is carried out or attempted. just many thoughts.

It’s weird, Sam thinks, to be here like this. It’s not unfamiliar, no, but it’s something he’d hoped he’d never have to live again.

_A double room for three nights, please,_ he’d said. It had been out of habit. The girl behind the counter had slid him two plastic keycards and pointed down the right hall with a wink.

_Out the door, up the stairs on your left. Just give me a call if you need anything, I’m here all night._

Sam forces a smile at her. He slings Dean’s duffle over his shoulder and climbs the stairs to the room.

It’s an ordinary room. It’s got all of the basic hotel room pieces. There’s shitty abstract art on the walls. There’s a questionable stain on the brown fleece blanket on one of the beds. There’s a rattley A/C unit under the window. There’s a shitty fridge next to a shitty TV.

There are two beds.

Sam drops the duffle on the bed closer to the door and sits heavily on the other one.

The first few days after were always the hardest. He knows this. He thinks it will always hurt like this, even if Dean comes back, even if Sam loses him again, even if it happens a hundred times more.

He can see a Denny’s across the street, its sign glowing faintly in the setting sun. Dean never liked Denny’s. He’d eat there, of course, if there was nothing else, because they were raised on much less, but if there was a local diner, it wasn’t even a question. Sam doesn’t feel like going back down to the girl in the lobby and trying to ask if there’s good food around here. He doesn’t care, if he’s honest.

So Denny’s it is.

He orders a burger and fries to-go and stops himself just before he turns to ask Dean what he wants.

_It’ll be ready in about twenty minutes._

And then he has twenty minutes to kill before he goes to pick up his food.

He can’t let himself think about it. Not yet. Not when it’s been on his mind the whole day, lurking just under the surface and threatening to overtake him the moment he lets his guard down.

For a moment, he considers warding the room. He knows it’s the smart thing to do, because if anything wants to get him, now would be the absolute ideal time. He’s emotionally a disaster, mentally vulnerable, and physically… well. Nothing has changed that much, really, from a surface level, but it would be so easy to leave the room unprotected. It would be so easy to let something overpower him. It would be so easy to let go.

He thinks about the guns in Baby’s trunk. It would be too easy. He could even take himself out to the woods somewhere so he wouldn’t traumatize the hotel maids. It would be far too easy.

Dean might punch him when he got to heaven. Sam thinks it would be well deserved, but the concept of feeling Dean’s hands on him, anywhere, even as a punch… it’s heady. It’s heady and tempting and _it would be so easy._ It would be so easy to give himself that much. It would be too easy.

He promised.

He pushes himself to his feet and leaves Dean’s duffle on the bed. He locks the door behind him, if nothing else, and walks back out to the parking lot.

Denny’s is just across the street. He shouldn’t take Baby, not for this. She holds too much temptation.

He takes a deep breath of evening air, the scent of cheap fast food and the gas station down the block filling his nostrils. It helps center him a little, at least. He lets himself walk slowly. The occasional car passes him, but it’s otherwise quiet. He can hear the sounds of what might be a bar a few streets over. It’s early still, but the people in these small towns in the middle of nowhere never have anything better to do than drink and gossip. Part of him wants to join them, but he’s an outsider here, and he knows it. Better to wait for a bigger town or even a small city before he lets himself get blackout drunk the way he wants to.

The hostess at the Denny’s smiles at him and tells him to hold on just a second while she gets his order for him. He hovers awkwardly in the little waiting area and ignores the glances the other customers are giving him.

The hostess returns with his order and he pays in cash. _Keep the change,_ he thinks he says, and turns to go.

“Wait, sir?”

“Yeah?”

“You paid… 40? For a 20 dollar order?”

“Keep the change.”

It’s not like he’ll need it.

On the walk back, he realizes it might have been better to ask for the change back, but he’s also going to be spending half the amount they used to. It’s fine. He has money to spare. Besides, who’s to say if he’ll even need it for much longer?

The burger is fine. The fries are fine. Sam doesn’t really taste much. He eats and cleans up mechanically, and then he’s left alone with his own goddamn mind. He could turn the TV on, or he could try to find a case to take on, or he could figure out where he wants to go next, or he could take a shower. He could do so many things. There are too many options.

He changes into his comfortable clothes. The shirt might have been Dean’s, at some point. He’s not sure anymore.

Everything reminds him of Dean as he gets ready for bed. The space on the counter where Dean’s razor and toothbrush would’ve been is stark and shiny under the shitty fluorescent mirror light. The covers on the bed closer to the door are still square and tight, the way the maid left them. He slides into bed, and has to get up out of bed again to turn the lights out.

It’s been more than four nights. He’s done this every night.

He thinks maybe the space Dean left behind has burrowed itself into his ribcage.

He wonders if he’ll be able to get to sleep tonight without seeing Dean’s face so, so close to his, telling him that he loves him.

He could get sleeping pills from the drugstore, if he wanted, but he doesn’t trust himself with them. It would be too easy.

He wonders if he’ll hear Dean breathing from the other bed when he wakes up from this nightmare, if he’ll be able to count Dean’s breaths until he falls asleep again, if he’ll be able to crawl into bed with Dean when he can’t get back to sleep no matter what he tries.

He can’t tell what’s a nightmare and what’s reality anymore. He wants this to be a dream, but he knows it’s not. It can’t be. It wouldn’t be.

It would be so easy to get up and get the handgun from the duffle and stand in the shower and-

But he had promised.

He doesn’t.

He doesn’t sleep, but he doesn’t let himself out of bed, either.

The room is too quiet all night, even with the rattle of the A/C unit and the brawl that breaks out on the first floor somewhere underneath him around 3am.

He wonders if it would be easier to sleep in Baby.

He isn’t tired when morning comes. He hasn’t slept in… days, he thinks. He’s not sure anymore. But it’s okay. He will adjust. He will sleep, someday. He has done it before and he’ll do it again.

He promised, after all.

He steps into the morning sunshine.

//

**Author's Note:**

> This fic has been converted for free using [AOYeet!](https://aoyeet.space)
> 
> _________________________________
> 
> thanks for reading ! leave a comment or kudos if you want <3


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